It was county fair time again, and I was approaching the event with definite mixed feelings. Maybe it's true, maybe I am getting to be an old fogey, but for the most part I didn't like the changes I had seen in county fairs over the years.
It seemed to me that when I was a kid, the county fair was about seeing who made the best pickles, who grew the biggest squash and getting to actually see all those farm animals, and letting the kids pet and ride them. Nowadays, the fair is a bunch of carnival rides and over-priced food booths with has-been rock acts and "up and coming" country acts each night to draw in the crowd. I don't know which is worse, hearing some washed up, in name only rock group sleepwalk through some old hits or seeing some pretty boy in a cowboy hat.
I think the country singers tick me off the most. They play watered down bar band rock and roll, but because they are all white, have short hair and hats, they are a "country" band. Every time I see one of them pretty boys, I wish Johnny Cash would come back to life and shoot Mr. Bighat down, "just to watch him die." Sigh, I really am getting old.
On the other hand, this new fangled county fair does have it's advantages. Because most folks are basically coming for a concert, they dress like it. Which means lots of pretty young women in short skirts or tight jeans, depending on whether it is a "has-been" night or a "hat-act" night. Either way, there is lots of big hair, low cut shirts and other appealing sights all around the fair grounds.
So I was prowling around on the opening night of the fair, taking all the sights. And actually it was going pretty well. It seemed that lately I had been getting many more smiles from younger women. Maybe they are just patronizing a doddering old man, or maybe they figure I might be a potential sugar daddy. Either way, getting second and even third looks from women who have less years on them than my shoes is good for the old ego.
I had been around the midway once or twice and was feeling rather "pumped up" as a sporting person might say, when I decided to partake of the more nostalgic side of the fair. I wandered into the exhibit halls about 45 minutes before the has-beens were to take the stage. I didn't even know there were any Beach Boys still alive. The few people who had been looking at the decorated cakes and jars of pickles were heading now in the opposite direction, toward the grandstand. I took in the sights of a time that was slowly fading, as the sun headed down. In no great hurry I wandered through the exhibit hall, exiting the back door into the gloaming.
I went into the first animal barn, which housed pigs and sheep mostly. It was just me and the animals. And their smell, of course. Going into the next barn I found the horses. A little more interesting at least. And then I noticed someone grooming a horse at the far end of the barn. The last light of day gave wonderful red highlights to her short curly hair. The curls bounced up and down, almost in slow motion with each brush stroke she made on the horse's side. It was actually quite a picture and I stood for a moment just admiring.
As I walked down the center aisle of the barn and got closer, I caught the eye of the young lady and smiled. She smiled back. I looked again and she did too. More smiles. Ego boosted. Then I realized that I knew her.
Cindy is one of those women that you just seem to see everywhere. She is a school teacher, youth leader and serves on boards and committees all over town. If you go to concerts, community events, school events or almost anything else, you'll see Cindy there. Not only is she there, she always has the biggest, brightest most wonderful smile on her face all the time. She gets so much done with that smile, it is irresistible to both men and women. And as I got closer I was seeing more and more of that smile, she had recognized me as well. Maybe there was some old time neighborliness to be had at the fair after all!
As I drew near, she rested the brush on the horse's shoulder, showing a profile that is extremely attractive. Her breasts are on the small side, but stand out beautifully. She will sometimes say that she thinks her butt is too big, but in those lace trimmed jean shorts, it looked perfect to me.
"Hey Cindy, I thought that was you!" Somehow she smiled even bigger and brighter than before, if she had asked me at that point, I would have licked the horse clean.
"Hey, Bill! What are you doing back here in ag-land?" In addition to being a school teacher, Cindy is also a real farm girl and occasionally likes to remind us town folk of that.
"Oh, just getting away from the plastic people in the grandstands. Seeing how the salt of the earth folks are getting along."
"We are getting along fine," she answered with her high pitched laugh.
"And you look great doing it." I couldn't help but add. Unfortunately she shied away from the compliment and went back to brushing. "I didn't know you had horses, Cindy," I continued to keep the conversation alive.
"Oh no, I don't. This belongs to a friend of mine. She wanted to see the show with her daughters, so I said I would do this for her."
"Awfully nice of you."
